


The Way We Were

by Otonymous



Series: Kinktober Writing Challenge [4]
Category: MLQC: Fandom, love and producer, 恋与制作人 | Liàn Yǔ Zhì Zuò Rén | Mr. Love: Queen's Choice (Video Game)
Genre: F/M, Fantasizing, Reminiscing, Role Playing, high school uniforms
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-19
Updated: 2019-10-19
Packaged: 2020-12-24 06:44:17
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,514
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21095132
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Otonymous/pseuds/Otonymous
Summary: Revisit the days of your youth with Gavin.





	The Way We Were

**Author's Note:**

> My fourth entry for the 2019 Kinktober challenge! 
> 
> Please note the potential trigger warnings listed above, and happy reading!

“Are you ready?”

“Just a moment. The shirt is…a bit tighter than I remembered.”

You chuckle. Of course it would be. Gavin is much bulkier than he was back in high school. But then again, _he_ was the one who came up with the idea to dress up as students for Minor’s Halloween party, saying he kept his high school uniform and looking hopefully in your direction when he asked if you did too.

You, for one, were surprised he even agreed to go when Minor asked you to invite him at work, muttering something about how Gavin would never turn down the love of his life and immediately sprinting off when you asked him to elaborate.

“Don’t laugh. I couldn’t do up some of the buttons.”

Gavin finally emerges from his bedroom, and you found you couldn’t laugh even if you wanted to. Navy tie slung loose around his neck to trail between firm pecs, the white dress shirt of your alma mater’s uniform couldn’t button up beyond the centre of his insanely defined torso.

“Is it really that bad?”

Eyes shooting up from the sizeable bulge outlined by the tight fit of his trousers, you find the officer studying you, brows furrowed in an expression of self-consciousness that was so foreign on Gavin’s handsome face. His fists clench and unclench at his sides before he blurts out, “You know what, this is a bad idea. I’ll just go as a cop.”

“Wait, Gavin! The whole point of Halloween is to dress up as something you’re not! Besides, you…” You swallow, trying not to look like a complete pervert as you scanned him once more from head to toe, “…you look amazing. Like the Hulk, except…sexier. And not green.”

And he did. Gavin’s muscular thighs strained against the fabric of his grey pants, and you found yourself wondering how it would feel like to perch on his lap, skirt hiked up to your waist and panties pulled aside.

“The who?” His confused voice disperses your daydream.

“You don’t know who the Hulk is? Big guy the colour of peas? In those superhero comics and movies?”

“I don’t really pay attention to that stuff,” he says with a shake of his head. Then, nodding towards his bedroom door, he says, “It’s your turn to change.”

* * *

“Oh.”

Smiles spread wide on your faces to have spoken at the same time, you and Gavin share expressions of bashful surprise, stealing furtive glances at each other.

He had slicked back his chestnut hair while you changed, looking much younger than his years and suddenly, you were reminded of the rough-and-tumble boy who always sported a scuff somewhere on his face. A face that took you way too long to realize how truly beautiful it was.

Fidgeting under the intensity of Gavin’s gaze, you bend to tug at your white socks before smoothing down the pleats of your navy skirt. By the time you adjust the satin bow at the collar of your blouse, you finally find your voice, “The skirt’s a bit shorter on me now, but honestly, I’m surprised it still fits…”

Only to have it trail off when you notice his eyes settling at the shortened hem, grazing bare skin at mid-thigh. Cheeks burning as your heart rate skyrockets, you feel your chest strain tight against the buttons of your blouse with each inhalation, the sight capturing the officer’s rapt attention.

Biting your lip, you reveal your final prop as you slide them up the bridge of your nose: a pair of round, lensless glasses. “I wear contacts now, but for the longest time, I had these horrible coke-bottle glasses. I’m not sure if you remember—“

“I do,” Gavin interrupts, staring at you so intently you quickly look away, but not before you notice the tips of his ears, tinged with pink. He stands from where he was sitting, slow steps closing the distance until the scar across his chest is clearly visible, saying, “I thought you looked cute in them.”

One hand rises, hesitating for a fraction of a second before a deep breath gives it the impetus to settle on top of your head, fingers gentle as Gavin strokes the length of your pigtails.

“I remember these too,” he smiles, voice thick with nostalgia and suddenly very close. So much so that when you lift your face, the warmth of his breath tickles your lips and all you can see is yourself reflected in dark pupils of amber eyes.

“Do you remember…the first time we met? The very first time?” Gavin ventures, hesitant, his fingers trembling slightly as he carefully slides the spectacles from your face. And caught up in the spell of the moment, you cannot find the words to speak.

“You had forgotten your umbrella. I saw you run across the street holding your book bag over your head, completely soaked. By the time I started towards you, you were already taking shelter under a gingko tree not far from the school gates, wiping the rain from your glasses.”

Gavin’s lips tug into a lopsided smile at the recollection. You wondered how they would taste. And as he studies the frames in his hands, he chooses his next words with the same amount of care he takes to fold the glasses flat at their hinges.

“You were so startled when I threw my jacket over your head and told you to make a run for it. Guess it was a bit sudden. I was also probably a bit gruff back then.”

He laughs, but it is hollow: bittersweet warmth tainted with self-deprecation, eliciting a wave of guilt from the pit of your stomach as you remembered the boy everyone feared in high school.

Gavin looks into your eyes, molten amber lit by an other-worldly brilliance as he says, “I thought you were the most beautiful girl in the world. And I still do. You’re perfect, really. Guess some things will never change—“

You never imagined his lips would feel so soft when you press your own to his, tongue sliding into his mouth when it parts from shock. So you close your eyes to relish the sensation, willing your kiss to wipe the slate of your memories clean of each and every misconception you ever held of his gentle heart.

“Let’s start over, Gavin. Right now. Pretend we’re teenagers again, meeting for the first time in school. Give me another chance to learn who you really are, free from the influence of gossip and rumours.”

He smiles, bright as the sun. But then just as quickly, his expression darkens with a shake of his head, a deep flush making its way up his face when he says, “No…we…I can’t.”

“Why not?”

“Because the things I want to do to you right now are not appropriate for a school setting.”

You raise your brows. “Tell that to Loveland High’s resident bad boy, _Officer Gavin._”

At that, he smirks, the smouldering desire in his gaze as it swept over your body doing little to rectify the image of him as a wild and unruly youth.

But if you were honest, wild and unruly was exactly how you wanted him between your legs.

Gavin exhales, running a large hand through his hair. “I-I can’t believe this is happening. Can I really—”

You take his hand, laying a gentle kiss at the tips of his fingers before your tongue swirls along the length of the index, silencing him when you suck it into your mouth.

You had always wondered what lay beneath the cool exterior Gavin projected. Calm and capable in even the most startling of emergencies, it seemed like nothing could ever faze the officer. So when he suddenly yanked off his tie and pulled apart that ill-fitting dress shirt to send buttons flying, you barely had time to register shock before you were lifted into his strong arms — Gavin folding your legs around his waist as he effortlessly carried you into his room.

Bed dipping under the weight of your bodies, Gavin climbs on top. Wasting no time in running your hands over the solid thighs straddling you, your fingers wander up and around those narrow hips until they feel the solid curves of his backside, so muscular there was barely any give when you gathered flesh to squeeze.

“You have no idea…how long I’ve wanted this…wanted you…but, are you sure—”

Gavin speaks breathlessly between kisses laid on the underside of your jaw, meandering down the column of your neck. And with each desperate press of his mouth upon your skin, you have never been more sure of anything in your life.

So you silence him, thumb tracing the contours of his lips as you ask, “Did you ever fantasize about me…back when we were in school?”

You reach for the bow on your collar, satin sliding smooth as it slowly comes undone. The sight has Gavin transfixed, eyes shining with the excitement of a child unwrapping a gift — his throat bobbing when he nods, “I did.”

“Tell me.”

With trembling fingers, you unbutton your blouse, fixated on the expression on Gavin’s face as more of your skin comes into view: the way his eyes linger on the swell of your breasts, trace along your ribs…pause at the dip of your navel, where his tongue sweeps out to moisten that lower lip.

He inhales through grit teeth. Your nipples harden.

And when he speaks, his voice is low in a way that makes you throb, the moisture between your legs palpable as it dampens and pools, preparing to receive him.

“You…you’d be dressed just like this. Lit by the late afternoon sun. Sitting on the piano bench in the music room, your skirt riding up past your knees. So absorbed in your performance you don’t even notice when I enter the room. Or when I lock the door.”

Calloused fingertips drag light across your collarbones as they trace invisible patterns, the swathe of goosebumps following in their wake giving the officer an acute sense of satisfaction to know he was at its source. And with your breasts rising at the end of each shuddering inhalation, he twitches against the constraints of his trousers, blood rushing hot to his rapidly hardening cock.

“I’d stand behind you and just…look. Watch your hands as they move across the keys. Strong when they need to be, soft if the melody calls for it. But always, always so expressive. Beautiful.”

Your mouth falls open to feel him finger the lace trim of your bra, thighs pressing tighter together beneath the pin of his hips.

“Then…when I can’t hold back any longer, I would stand a bit closer. Until I can smell the scent of your shampoo. Finally see the tiny details of your earrings.”

Gavin nuzzles into your neck, and you can’t help but close your eyes at the sensation. And when his tongue swirls about your earlobe to guide it into his wet mouth, you finally let loose the moan you’d been holding back.

His next words come on the heels of an audible swallow, a secret whispered in your ear: “I’d touch you…”

Fine hairs stand on end when the ambient air hits your skin, Gavin pulling off your blouse to let it crumple to the floor beneath him. On reflex, your hands pull up to your chest, crossing at the wrists.

“…Lay my palms on your shoulders. Run my hands down your arms — lightly, so I don’t disturb your playing.”

Pressing a soft kiss to the back of each hand, Gavin uncrosses your arms to lay them at your sides.

“Then, I’d start to unbutton your blouse from behind, until it’s just loose enough…”

Fingers undo the front clasp of your bra.

“…for me to slip a hand down…”

The satin cups fall away.

“…and feel you.”

You gasp as Gavin cups the swell of your breasts, gathers your nipple between thumb and index to gently roll and pinch. And when he buries his face in the space between — tongue running from chest to neck to chin, tasting the salt of your skin — you cannot help but buck up to grind against him.

His hand roams beneath your skirt, stopping when it finds wet silk clinging to swollen flesh. Then, fingers tracing torturously slow up and down the line of your folds, he watches you bite your lip with fire in his eyes as he continues to spin his fantastic tale.

“You’d really notice me then. Stop to turn and look up at me. See me without any fear in your eyes. And when that happens…I kiss you.”

A thumb hooks to pull your panties aside, and at the exact moment his fingers slide to reach into your ready wetness, his tongue slips past your parted lips, kissing you so deeply you weren’t sure which mouth was primarily responsible for the fire in your veins.

“Ahh! Ga-Gavin! Oh…ah, god!”

You are surprised by the raspy quality of your voice when you finally tear away for a breath of much-needed air, but the continued movements of Gavin’s talented fingers stroking at just the right depth and frequency soon had you past the point of caring about how loud you were or how _desperate_ you sounded.

In all honesty, however, the officer already knew how you felt even if not a single word was uttered: the way you dripped down his fingers and palm, arousal tracing the muscles of his forearms to make a mess of his sheets, already spoke volumes. And the body never lies.

His was no exception, as evidenced by the hardness of his erection springing forth when he disrobed, eyes on you all the while to catch every single tremor coursing still through your body — the result of a series of climaxes brought about in quick succession by hands, lips and tongue.

When he finally nestles between your legs — the head of his cock searing as it aligned with your entrance — he gathers you within a muscular embrace, his whispers soothing in your ear as he begins to push in earnest, hoping to ease your tension in accommodating a man of his size.

Then, flesh gives, yielding to Gavin’s cock as his hips build to a rhythm that quickly becomes punishing — the man losing himself in the slippery heat of your pussy.

And he knows that no fantasy, no matter how vivid, could ever compare to the ecstatic reality of having you in his arms. Of calling you his own.

* * *

“Minor is going to be so disappointed we missed his Halloween party.”

You smile as you stare up at the darkened ceiling of Gavin’s bedroom, savouring the touch of his hand on your inner thigh, fingertips dipping into the mixture of cum and arousal that had slowly trickled out of you. Stained the pleated skirt of your high school uniform.

Gavin chuckles. “I’ll just tell him my uniform didn’t fit…that we had trouble keeping our costumes on.”


End file.
